


A Mother's Love

by thekingofcarrotflowers



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Apologies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Reunions, Halward Pavus' A+ Parenting, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Parent-Child Relationship, Protective Iron Bull, Protective Josephine Montilyet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 19:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4533639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingofcarrotflowers/pseuds/thekingofcarrotflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aquinea shows up unannounced at Skyhold, stirring up a lot of old feelings for Dorian. Things go differently than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mother's Love

**Author's Note:**

> An Adoribull Sunday Prompt: Dorian's mother arrives at skyhold and is surprisingly ok with her son rolling around with a qunari
> 
> It ended up being more emotional than I intended! I didn't reread it very thoroughly (it's 6AM and I've been up all night, oops), so if you see any mistakes, just point them out (:

As soon as Josephine set foot into the tavern, everything went tensely quiet. The Ambassador rarely made an appearance here, and from the set of her jaw, it didn’t look like a happy visit. When her eyes met with Dorian’s, every muscle in his body tensed up and he felt like fleeing from his seat. A large, warm hand slid across his back, soothing and solid, and Dorian forced himself to breath.

  
“Dorian, a moment, if you will,” Josephine said quietly. Dorian swallowed, then nodded.

  
“Oi, Krem what was that story your were tellin’? About the baths or wotzit,” Sera said loudly, waving at Krem from her perch at the end of the table. The rest of the group caught on quickly, talking again as if nothing had happened, helping Dorian to feel less on-the-spot. He gave a grateful nod to the elf before standing, grabbing Bull’s wrist and pulling him along as well. There was a strange pit in his stomach, and Dorian wasn’t ready for more bad news. Felix had died not a month ago, and there’d been rumors of an assassination attempt on Mae’s life. Bull’s being there might not make everything better, but it was reassuring to have his solid weight next to him.

  
“I apologize for intruding on your celebrations, Dorian,” Josephine said in a hushed voice outside the tavern. It had quickly grown noisy again, though Dorian was pretty sure more than one set of eyes had followed them out. The air was cool and it had grown dark since Dorian first entered the tavern, a splattering of stars above, warm lantern light dotted throughout the fortress.

  
“Out with it then, whatever this is,” Dorian waved his hand at her. There was no point in dragging it out. If someone else had been killed, or if his father had challenged the Inquisition for the return of his heir, or whatever it was, Dorian just wanted to know.

  
Josephine looked uncomfortable, “There is a woman in my office who claims to be your mother. She … has the correct crest.”

  
Dorian blanched considerably. His mother? What was she doing so far south? How had she even got here without his father following behind? His mind became a buzz of thoughts and worries. The last time he’d seen her was briefly after his father had dragged him back home, his father shooting him fiery looks to pretend that everything was just fine before Aquinea left for summer holiday at her cousin’s estate. It’d been the first time since being kidnapped from his lover’s bed that he’d been free of that magic-stifling collar, a healer mending the irritated skin there, and Dorian didn’t want to risk having it forced back on is neck. There’d been a kiss on the cheek, and then she was gone, and Dorian had fled before she returned home. There hadn’t even been mention of his mother when he’d talked to Halward, but Maevaris kept him relatively updated on what soirees she attended and what parties she was hosting and how healthy she looked. Admittedly, Dorian missed her terribly at times, the smell of her lavender perfume and her bright laugh and her strong, reassuring hugs. She hadn’t been the most stable person in his life, attending endless parties that kept her gone for months at a time when he was a boy, always a pleasant shade of drunk when she was home. Still, she’d been soft and patient when Halward had been harsh and demanding, hadn’t expressed the clear dislike for his lifestyle as his father had. Most of his memories of her were fond, of lazy days at the lake and being indulged at family gatherings and Aquinea more than happy to share a dance or two with her son in the middle of a ball. Despite all of that, a bit of fear flickered in his heart, wondering if this was the newest tactic to draw him back to Tevinter.

  
“Dorian,” Bull said softly from behind him as the silence stretched on. His hand pressed firmly against his back, a reminder he was there.

  
“Yes, very well,” Dorian pushed back his hair, surprised to find that his hand was shaking, Mother hardly likes being told to wait.”

  
“I could set her up in the room for the night, and arrange a brunch in the morning,” Josephine suggested, “It could give you time to prepare.”

  
Dorian chewed on his cheek for a moment, considering the offer. It felt too much like running and hiding again.

  
“No, that’s quite alright. I’ll … speak with her posthaste,” Dorian decided, nodding firmly.

  
Josephine inclined her head slightly, sweeping off towards the the castle. Dorian started forward, before Bull’s hand caught him loosely around his upperarm.

  
“You alright?” Bull asked, frowning. He was searching his lover’s face, hoping to find some answers there. It was easy to tell that Dorian’s mind was whirling, an edge of panic there, his warm gray eyes gone distant.

  
“I’ll be fine,” Dorian assured him. Bull gave his arm a tight squeeze before letting go, the pair of them following Josephine up the stairs into the main hall. Dorian easily spotted the wagon near the gates, flying a single flag bearing his house signal, with a few men milling about. It had to be his mother, then.

  
As the door to Josephine’s office grew nearer and nearer, his worry became more palpable. Mother could always see right through him, caught on quickly to the games that he played, but usually only gave him vague warnings and threats. Unless she was properly provoked, she was good-humored and easy to please. Warm afternoons as a child were passed sitting in her lap, some elaborate picture book laid out before them. He’d cried on her shoulder after his first heartbreak, some puppy love at the Circle, the older boy informing Dorian he had been chosen to be some Magister’s apprentice and wouldn’t be returning after the Winter Solstice. On the other hand, he’d received a firm slap across the face one evening after a handful of words he thoroughly regretted now. Face aching with the phantom pain, heart heavy, his feet began to slow.

  
“You offered her wine already? Of course you offered her wine already, it was silly of me to ask. She’s just sitting at your desk, waiting around for me to make an appearance? It’s late. There was no letter or announcement of her —” Dorian was beginning to ramble, thoughts spilling forth hurriedly.

  
“Dorian,” Josie said, meeting Dorian’s eyes, placing a small, light hand on his shoulder, “If you don’t want to see her, I understand. I can entertain her for the night, and we’ll figure it out from there.”

  
“No, no, that’s quite alright. I just …” Dorian was chewing on his cheek and playing with his hair again, before letting his hands fall to his sides. His mother would fret endlessly over his appearance if he looked mussed up, “I’ll be fine.”

  
He turned to face the pair of them, Bull and Josie standing side-by-side, a strange line of defense against whatever ghosts of his past lingered. Concern was etched into both of their faces, Josie’s brows bunched up as she studied him, Bull looking vaguely uncomfortable over the idea of sending Dorian into the hands of one of his parents again. It brought a small smile to his face, surprised to know that either of them would fight tooth-and-nail for him.

  
“We shouldn’t be worried, right?” Bull asked.

  
“Mother’s harmless, most of the time. She was trained as a Force Mage briefly in the Asariel Circle, but she studied politics and etiquette more than magic,” Dorian shrugged slightly. He winked slightly, “Wish me luck.”

  
Hurriedly, before he could change his mind, Dorian straightened his robes and swept into the room. It was lucky he’d wore something nice tonight, although a bit simple — deep crimson trimmed in silver, matching silver jewelry instead of the usual gold. He should have gone back to his room to check his kohl and fix his hair, but it was too late for that now as his mother beamed at him.

  
“Dorian,” she said warmly, relief clear in her expression. As much as he resembled his father, it’s easy to tell he inherited some of his mother’s finer traits — the high cheekbones, the silver eyes, the curling smile. While her clothes were modest for her, something she wore while traveling, they were still layered and decorated in intricate, swirling patterns just so. She set her flute of wine down carefully before sweeping him into her arms, Dorian gone stiff for a moment before hugging back, “It’s been too long.”

  
“Mother,” Dorian answered, surprised that his voice was cracking. This wasn’t how he wanted it to go. He’d planned on coming in, demanding what she wanted and what motives she had for coming to see him, but he quickly melted in her embrace. She still smelled of lavender and wine. She looked somewhat older, though no less beautiful — wisps of silvery gray strands decorated her dark hair now, a few extra wrinkles from the smiles and laughter graced her face. As Dorian’s grip grew tighter on her, she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

  
“You look well, Dorian,” she stated, leaning back to look at him, her arms still gripping his shoulders tightly. Dorian wondered if she had planned on him trying to flee.

  
“As do you, Mother,” Dorian nodded slightly.

  
“I am glad you’ve decided to stick with the mustache.”

  
Dorian’s lips twitched into a smirk, though his eyes stayed misty.

  
“I suppose you’re curious why I’m here,” Aquinea drew back to her glass of wine, and Dorian nodded slightly.

  
“It’s a long journey just to make sure I’m well,” Dorian huffed slightly, preparing himself for some sort of lecture on duty.

  
“That’s exactly it,” she looked fond and proud, and Dorian spluttered slightly, “Your father…”

  
The grip on her wineglass tightened slightly, something sparking in her eyes. Dorian swallowed.

  
“Your father admitted to what he had done to drive you away. I had alway assumed it was some …” she waved her hand, gesturing much as Dorian did, “Disagreement, perhaps over Alexius’ and his boy. I heard of his passing, and I’m so sorry, my darling.”

  
Dorian hesitantly nodded, all of this strange and surreal.

  
“And I’m sorry for my negligence and my ignorance,” Aquinea stepped forward again, and Dorian didn’t realize he was crying until her ringed fingers were brushing away tears, “I am so sorry, Dorian.”

  
Dorian began to nod dumbly, before a sob made its way free. Without hesitation, Aquinea pulled him into a tight embrace, hand still holding the wine looping around his waist, other hand stroking his hair. He pressed her face into her shoulder, quickly dampening the cerulean silk, but she didn’t seem to mind.

  
The door flew open with quite a bit of force, Bull barging in, Josephine behind him. Dorian wondered vaguely if they’d had their ears pressed to the door and only been able to make out the strangled sobs he was making. Bull froze at seeing Dorian clinging to his mother, the woman speaking to him in soft Tevene.

  
“Ah, you must be the Bull,” she greeted, still holding onto Dorian, “If you’d excuse us for another moment.”

  
“Uh, yes, ma’am,” Bull blinked, ducking back out of the door. He and Josephine awkwardly knocked into each other as they scuttled backwards.

  
It was a long time until Dorian felt like he could speak again. He’d never expected this, never expected apologies and crying and loving embraces. Thinking back, his mother had always been affectionate, if not a little detached at times. Really, her love of Dorian had always seemed less tainted by the need for him to be the perfect heir, the perfect mage, the perfect man than his father’s was. He wondered how he hadn’t noticed sooner, how she’d only tut matronly at a scraped knee or a broken vase, or yanked his ear at a party when he’d forgotten his manners, when all his father had done was scold and demand that Dorian be better. Not that she wasn’t sometimes vain and demanding, but never in a way that hurt Dorian to his very core.

  
“I forgive you, Mother,” Dorian breathed out against her shoulder, finally, “I don’t think I can ever forgive father.”

  
“You don’t have to,” she said firmly, Dorian pulling away just slightly, but she kept her gaze trained on his face, “What he tried to do to you… What he _did_ to you, it’s unforgivable. I would never have allowed him to change my little boy.”

  
Dorian laughed lightly, “Not even after all the deviance and imperfections?”

  
“Not even then,” she wiped away some of the smudge kohl, “You look different, Dorian.”

  
“Yes, well, it has been quite a few years. I suppose even I am not impervious to aging,” Dorian shrugged.

  
“No, not that. You look … more comfortable than when you were just becoming a man.”

  
“Rather awkward years for everyone, I suspect.”

  
“Are you happy?”

  
The question was startling, his eyes going slightly wide. Another unreal surprise. His mouth worked for a moment before he nodded again.

  
“I have friends. I have a place and a purpose. And, I have someone who cares about me deeply, just as I care about him.”

  
“The Bull, then? Mae wrote to me about him.”

  
Dorian spluttered again, “Mae wrote to you? Remind me to send her a letter insisting she keep her nose out of others affairs.”

  
Aquinea tutted slightly, “You must formally introduce me to this Bull.”

  
“As you wish,” Dorian nodded, frowning just slightly. Never had he ever imagined this possible. He’d been less surprised when they fell into the Fade at Adamant than he was now. He linked arms with Aquinea, leading her out of Josie’s office. The Bull and the Ambassador were still waiting nearby, talking quietly to each other. Bull leaning casually against the wall although his shoulders looked tense and Josie’s hand was hovering in front of her mouth, like she was speaking a secret she really shouldn’t be. They both quickly straightened up upon seeing the pair exit the room.

  
Dorian cleared his throat awkwardly, stepping back to gesture towards his mother, “Iron Bull, Lady Josephine, let me formally introduce you to my mother, Aquinea Thalrassain, of the House of Pavus.”  
Josephine and Aquinea traded bows, while she stuck out her hand to Bull. For a moment, the man looked at it dumbly, before shaking it delicately.

  
“As you very well should know, we Tevenes are hardly made of glass,” she tsked at him as the handshake broke, “You haven’t broken my boy yet, and I doubt you’re exactly gentle with him.”

  
Dorian let out a nervous laugh, heat quickly rising in his cheeks, while a booming chuckle was startled from the Bull. Josephine was smirking behind her hand, gaze dancing between Dorian and his mother.

  
“Bull, walk with me for a moment?” she questioned, linking her arm with Bull’s and continuing forward. She dropped her voice low, so Dorian couldn’t hear, “You’re treating my son well?”

  
“Of course, ma’am,” Bull answered with a polite nod, "I ... care about him a lot. He's a good guy, sweet and gentle."

  
“I suppose I needn’t warn you what would happen if you were to break his heart,” she continued, trailing towards the grand doors of the hall.

  
Bull made a little laugh, “You wouldn’t be the first to give me the shovel talk about him. He’s got a few people watching out for him.”

  
“Good, good,” she patted his arm and eyed him carefully. He was a lot to take in, of course, all that silvery skin and rippling muscle, the dark horns above her head, the gnarled scars across his body, the garish fashion sense. Bull felt surprisingly nervous under her critical gaze, which was so like Dorian’s — sharp and bright. She slapped a hand across Bull’s stomach, and she called back to Dorian, “All right, I approve.”

  
Bull glanced over his shoulder, looking flustered and confused for a moment. Then, Aquinea was murmuring something again and Bull was booming with laughter.

  
“I like her,” Bull chuckled, and Dorian groaned.

  
“I think they’ll be the death of me,” Dorian muttered to Josephine.

**Author's Note:**

> SO, I always imagined Aquinea as being a bit of a detached mom & a spoiled, shallow, pampered person who probably was never cut out to be a parent. Not that she didn't love Dorian, but that she had other things that were more important and Dorian often fell by the wayside? I don't imagine she loves Halward, or cares much for/about him, but enjoys the title and parties and things the marriage comes with. BUT, it was nice to write a more caring, though still distant and somewhat oblivious, Aquinea. I figured Halward would probably be pretty crafty and manipulative, since he seems good at getting what he wants, and if Aquinea was a bit aloof and caught up in her social affairs, she might have missed all the signs pointing to Halward being a dick of a father. She realizes more after Dorian's gone, and doesn't know what to do for a long time. It was nice to write Dorian having one decent parent!
> 
> Say hi?  
> http://thekingofcarrotflower.tumblr.com/


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